Just Like Her
by Luciole-leSolange
Summary: Originally on LJs kink meme. France deeply loves Sey and treats her like his princess, but continues to treat her as his daughter and doesn't their let relationship progress. As Sey gets older however; she falls in love and starts to want more from him.


---

Cool blue eyes watched with adoration as a young girl came bounding up from the crystal clear water with her newest prize. "Papa! Papa! I caught one!"

"Oui, I do believe this may be your largest yet mon petit pêcheur," Francis removed his hands from his coat pockets and squatted down to better meet his dear colonies eyes. He watched her carry the large tuna with surprising ease before stopping just in front of him and smiling slightly.

Seychelles giggled at her father figure as she offered the fish to him and he took it- struggling a little to carry the oddly shaped and still wriggling catch. "Can you cook it? S'il vous plait?" bright crystal blue eyes stared into the Frenchman's own as she clasped her hands in front of her, pleading. She adored her father's cooking, her own somewhat lacked the skill that he had.

"We shall 'ave ourselves a feast tonight mon chéri! How does that sound?" Francis stood carefully, cradling her well earned prize in one hand as he offered her his other hand. Taking the much larger hand, Seychelles looked up at him and gave him a blindingly beautiful smile.

_She has your smile._

---

Francis was being dragged through the streets as the lights of Paris twinkled in the evening sky. He smiled as he watched brown pigtails bob with every step and turn of the head. The Frenchman had invited his darling daughter on a trip to his own beautiful capital to treat her to shopping and dinner. They had enjoyed the classy dinner- Even if Seychelles told him that he cooked better- and he had offered to take her out shopping. Granted, the little girl seemed more interested in the sights and sounds than the stores of Paris.

"It's so—big!" Seychelles marveled at the buildings, the streets, and most of all, that large tower that no matter where she seemed to go, she could always see it poking up behind buildings, "And bright!"

The Frenchman chuckled deeply in his throat and pulled on her hand to stop her. "I thought we were going shopping mon petit fille? Or are you happy with sightseeing?" he questioned her as she turned around and gave him an annoyed look.

"I am not so little anymore papa!" Seychelles started to pull on Francis' hand once more and he just smiled and shook his head as he allowed himself to be pulled through the streets of Paris.

_She has your spunk._

_---_

The world meeting had been going normally; the small island nation had managed to talk her way into coming again. After all she was a nation- Free from British and French rule. She watched her father figure and that stupid British man fight again for the final time as she stood up and stomped over to them.

"Seychelles?" Francis paused, looking away from the Englishman that had just been yelling at him, "What is wrong?"

"Go sit back down dear, I have to deal with this bloody wanker here," Arthur offered a slight smile at the young woman, trying to appease the glower that he was receiving at the moment.

Before either European nation knew what had happened, Arthur had an angry red mark on his cheek and the whole room seemed to suck in a breath. "Don't talk about Francis that way!" she demanded, hands set angrily on her hips as clouding eyes threatened the very United Kingdom's himself. Francis chuckled to himself as he looked at Arthur.

_She has your bravery._

---

Seychelles was swimming again, in her tropical paradise she called home. Diving under the water, she opened her eyes to watch the slightly marred and pale back of her beloved Frenchman. She would have sighed if she had not been underwater- New feelings developing in her now developed chest. The small island nation wasn't so small anymore and she had been trying to explain that to Francis for a while now (she had refused to call Francis Papa again ever since these feelings started to develop). But every time she brought up the subject of them becoming closer, he would shrug it off- Saying that things were fine how they were.

Bobbing up out of the water and tossing her wet hair back, she swam up to the European. "Francis?" she spoke quietly, pushing him closer to shore until they were both settled on the sand, waves lapping at their feet.

"Oui? What is it Mon petit fille?" Francis yawned and sat up; the gentle rolling waters always calmed him. He had also been trying to avoid the sinfully small suit that his daughter had been wearing the entire day. The Frenchman had tried to get her to wear something more concealing but to no avail- And it was impossible to deny that she was indeed a woman now, not the little girl he once watched bounding across the beach.

She sighed, finally out of the water and met the darker, navy blue eyes with a serious look. "I am not a little girl Francis. I've been trying to tell you that-"

"I know," the Frenchman smiled, he was trying to avoid this conversation again. He sighed a little and offered a gentler smile to her, "But I will always see you as my little daughter, non?" He did not mean the words harshly, but the hurt expression that he saw in Seychelles' eyes told him that she had taken them very wrong.

"But I'm not little!" Seychelles insisted, pushing Francis down into the sand and straddling his hips. She would just have to show him that she wasn't little anymore. "Francis… Je t'aime…" she spoke quietly as she leaned down and pressed her lips to his.

This wasn't supposed to happen- Seychelles was too innocent, too much like _her. _Francis had been trying to keep their relationship pure, and recreate his relationship with _her_. He knew that it was wrong of him, terrible even, but his daughter reminded him so much of his old relationship he couldn't help himself.

"Non!" Francis pushed the still young island nation off and immediately stood, backing up. "Seychelles… S'il vous plait, stop this! You know I love you—But not in this way!" His cheeks were bright red as he looked away from her, willing his body not to react to her sudden move.

Crystal tears started to pool in her eyes as she sat up and looked up at Francis. "B-but Francis…" Seychelles' voice hitched and two tears rolled down from the corners of her eyes, creating wet trails down her red cheeks.

Closing his eyes, Francis sighed and turned away from the brunette nation, not wanting to see the tears that he knew were there. "Je suis désolé Seychelles… I-I just cannot…" he hurried off of the beach, leaving a very heart-broken young woman to cry at the water's edge.

---

It had been three months since the French Republic had heard from his ex-colony. There had been no word since that fateful day where he had denied her advances and he was wondering now why he had. He had attempted to call her a few times only to be sent immediately to voicemail.

Oh, there had been rumors. Rumors that he refused to accept. His precious Seychelles- meeting with the United States of America, Alfred Jones. The Frenchman hoped desperately that his innocent little girl had not gone off with that American pig- He could only think of what Alfred would do if- Ugh, the very thought made Francis sick to his stomach, but, surprisingly a large amount of jealousy, as well.

His heart burned as he remembered Seychelles; her beautiful complexion, her amazingly unique eyes that showed her every emotion, the way she would smile up at him for approval for every little thing she did. Francis snapped out of his thought and sat up in his bed, looking at the wall across from him that carried a painting of _her,_ his Jeanne. "She really is nothing like you… Is she mon cher Jeanne?"

Francis sat there for a while, trying to remember all of the reasons that he had fallen in love with the island nation- And, as much as he tried, the list he created in his head had nothing to do with Jeanne. The Frenchman finally realized- He loved Seychelles for everything she was, not as a replacement for the late Jeanne of Arc. As he fell back on the bed, warm tears started to fall from the corners of his eyes; he didn't want to lose her.

---

Seychelles leaned lazily on a fist as she sat on the couch in a certain American's living room. Alfred was currently playing some online shooter on his play station thing that had no plot-line and had way to much blood for a video game. "Can't we go out Alfred? Maybe to the beach?"

"I'm right in the middle of a game babe!- Hell yeah! Suck on that OneWithMe42!!!" Alfred yelled at the TV, causing the island nation to jump from her spot on the couch.

"Dieu Alfred! Could you stop yelling at inanimate objects?!" the young woman hissed from the couch. She had been dating the American for a week now and between the obsession with hamburgers and strange habit of calling himself a hero, the brunette wondered if revenge was really worth this much.

Alfred quit the game and set down his controller, crawling over on the couch to kiss the glowering island nation. "I'm sorry babe… Forgive me?" he gave her that innocent expression that reminded her to much of a begging puppy.

Sighing unhappily, Seychelles shook her head and gave Alfred a chaste kiss. She sat up and allowed him to wrap a strong arm around her thin shoulders as he picked up the remote and flipped the channel to some American football game. "Yeah, yeah… And stop calling me babe. I'm not a baby."

"You know I don't mean it like that Sey, c'mon!" the American groaned slightly, the young woman always seemed sensitive to that nickname and he still couldn't figure out why- It was obvious enough that she was no longer a child and she really didn't have anything to worry about.

"Hmpf," Seychelles just turned her head and pouted- similarly to how a little kid would.

Alfred ignored the TV (for once in his life) and turned to the young woman, taking her by the shoulders and pinning her back to the couch and thus forcing her to look at him. "Sey- C'mon, you know I didn't mean it like that…" his voice was slightly lower, somewhat predatory, "You know I love ya."

Even through her darker complexion, Seychelles face flushed as she stared up at the American- He had been trying this more frequently as of late, but she kept denying him. It wasn't that she didn't feel for him, or that he wasn't handsome- He had _almost_ the right shade blue of eyes, _almost_ the right color of hair, _almost_ the same self assurance. "Get off of me Alfred," she whispered quietly, bangs hiding her face.

The American sighed again and sat up off of her, standing up to go grab a snack from the fridge, he would just try again in a little bit- Maybe she would warm up to him by then. After all, he was the hero- And who didn't eventually succumb to the hero's advances?

The small island nation sat up and wiped un-shed tears from her eyes. Alfred wasn't _him_- He wasn't even close. But she couldn't go back, he had pushed her away- _He didn't love her like that_, she reminded herself needlessly. Seychelles had avoided the Frenchman as much as she could, to embarrassed and hurt to face him. Alfred had been there as someone to make her laugh, he had been charming at first—

Just like Francis. But he was no France.

---

Returning home was a welcome break, Alfred had attempted to go even farther this time and his face now held a large red welt because of it. She remembered watching the Francis attempt the same things with many other people, but why had he never attempted with her? Was she not good enough for him?

Seychelles sighed as her taxi let her out in front of her modest house, trying to forget about the Frenchman again. She gathered her bags and started up the way, only to stop dead in her tracks and drop her things on the rocky path. "F-Francis…?" the brunette stared up at the man seated on her porch.

"You 'ave not been answering my phone calls or letters mon cher…" Francis spoke coolly, standing and walking over to her, taking her bag for her as they kept their eyes locked. "I heard you 'ave been with that American idiot…" his voice was laced with concern and jealously, heart afraid of what Alfred may have tried.

Regaining her composer, Seychelles put a defiant frown on and took her bag from the Frenchman. "Maybe I was! Why do you care!" she looked down and sidestepped to get past the larger man, but he stepped in her way. Attempting to get past him again, he stopped her in her tracks. "Let me by damnit!"

Francis chuckled slightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Such language is not fitting of a young lady, non?" he chided gently as he leaned down to look her directly, "And I care because I care about you… I 'ave missed you Seychelles."

Her face scrunched up in a mix of hurt and love all in one. Why was he doing this to her? Didn't he know how much it hurt? Seychelles shoved past Francis just to be caught in strong arms. She tried to struggle out of the embrace, but found herself unable to break free and she relaxed into his arms- Shoulders shaking with the now falling tears. "No you did-didn't," she protested, "You-You're the one that left."

The Frenchman took her bag and set it aside, pulling her into a tight hug as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He breathed deeply, taking in her scent- a wonderful mix of wildflowers and ocean mist. "Je suis désolé mon cher. _I am so sorry… Please forgive me."_

"Why should I!" Seychelles pushed him away and she sniffed, angry tears falling freely from her eyes. "Y-you don't care about me! You l-left!" her voice hitched as her cheeks and nose turned red from the tears.

"On the contrary mon chéri- _Je t'aime_," Francis spoke the words he should have spoken months ago with a quiet reservation. "I was wrong before Seychelles- I was an idiot- And it took you leaving for me to realize just how much I truly do _love you_. I want to be with you mon amour."

Seychelles heart skipped a beat at Francis' words, slight distrust evident on her face. She wiped her tears hesitantly as the Frenchman leaned down slightly again to meet her eyes directly. Turning away, she found a calloused hand gently guiding her chin to meet his navy blue eyes. Her eyes widened as too soft of lips pressed against her own lips in a tender loving kiss.

He pulled away to soon she thought. Francis pressed his forehead against hers and smiled slightly, hoping that she could find it in her heart to forgive him, "Je t'aime Seychelles. S'il vous plait… Forgive me?"

"Stop apologizing…" she spoke quietly, fresh tears springing to her eyes as the island nation crushed their lips together again, eagerly wrapping her arms around the Frenchman before deepening the tender kiss.

Francis picked up her bag and scooped up Seychelles with ease as she wrapped her legs around him, carrying her up to the porch and never breaking their kiss. She giggled quietly and buried her face in the crook of Francis' neck, breathing in his musky scent that smelled distinctly of lilies. He managed to open the door, kick it closed, before setting down her bag. "Seychelles… mon cher—Do you wish to-"

"Please Francis… I've been waiting for so long," Seychelles struggled out of the embrace and hopped down, taking the larger, rough hand in her own smaller one. She pulled him upstairs to her bedroom, to finish what she started on the beach to long ago.

--- --

Francis was already awake as the sun shone in from the window, bathing him and his new lover in soft light. She was wrapped tightly around his naked chest as he sighed. He stared down at her, appreciating- learning. The young woman really was nothing like Joan, her attitude might be similar- But the very essence of Seychelles was something so unique, to compare it to another was blasphemy. He smiled again and ran a hand through her messed hair, waking her. "Je suis désolé mon cheri, I did not mean to wake you," he spoke quietly, lovingly.

Seychelles smiled up at the blonde-haired man with tired eyes, nuzzling his fuzzy chest and yawning slightly. "Didn't I say to stop apologizing?" she giggled quietly before kissing his chest and rolling on top of him to stare into his eyes. "Je t'aime Francis~"

"Je t'aime… mon amour."


End file.
